Fission
by omens
Summary: Lana had been running from all the painful memories Smallville held for so long, sometimes she forgot there were actually a few good things in the past. Two-shot. Pete/Lana.
1. Chapter 1

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_**I am here still waiting  
Though I still have my doubts  
I am damaged at best  
Like you've already figured out**_

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Something in the persistently overcast weather of London appealed to Lana. There had been so little sunshine in her own life over the past few years; she figured being in a sunny place would only serve to depress her even more.

London offered more anonymity; its tightly packed streets, people from every race and culture milling about, the multitude of styles that walked around afforded her more possibility of blending in than Kansas-not to mention the distance.

Her aunt Nell's new husband had an apartment, or flat rather, in the Kensington district of London, a left over from his backpacking days, and offered it to her for as long as she wanted it. She'd resisted at first, saying it was too much for someone who barely new her. But he insisted, saying that once every few years wasn't enough for some place with such a great view. That was one thing that made it all worth imposing on his kindness and attempts to get her to like him. She woke up every to a breathtaking bird's eye view of Kensington Gardens that anyone in the city would have paid through the nose for.

It didn't hurt that Lex, if he decided to look for her again, would expect her to be in some small place out of the way like she'd had in Shanghai. Less conspicuous, less chance of being seen. But Lana was tired of living her life in fear of her ex husband trying to ruin her life, her happiness, again. That was why she had run away in the first place. To get out from under the ever present Luthor stranglehold, to get away from all the things that reminded her of the life she could have had if she had been able to let go of Clark and stand on her own two feet.

Thoughts of Clark still managed to send a sharp pang through her chest, even six months after they had parted ways. It wasn't as if they hadn't tried. God only knew how hard they had tried to make it work. It just wasn't any use. Kara took half of Clark's focus trying to find her and then keep her antics reigned in. What was left over was divided between his help to Chloe and sparring with Lois. There were just far too many women in Clark Kent's life and, for once, she wasn't at the top.

It was selfish; she knew that, to leave Clark because he couldn't put her first. There was just no other way. Lana had known Clark for a long time, had loved him for a long time, and she knew him well enough to know that only the absolute most important things got his focus. And with all the other obligations he had, she fell away from being a priority. He'd insisted she was wrong, that he could make her the most important thing to him, but they hadn't even been able to finish the conversation without him having to go off and help Lois out of a freezer she'd somehow managed to get locked inside.

The bell jingled over the small book store Lana had been working in since she realized that days filled with museums and sightseeing only kept you entertained for so long. It seemed like fate that she walked out of her building one day and saw the owner placing a help wanted sign in the window. For a former self proclaimed bookworm like Lana, it was the perfect job until she figured out what to do with the rest of her life.

"Hey, Lana," one of the other clerks, a high school girl named Claire, waved from behind the register.

She smiled. The girl's enthusiasm was so infectious. "Hi. I thought you were off today?"

The younger girl shrugged, her red curls bouncing around her head. "I had to leave early last night so I came in to make it up, but now that you're here…"

Laughing, Lana replied, "Say no more. Have a nice night."

"You, too," Claire grabbed her purse from under the counter and went to clock out in the back room. "Oh," she added as she dashed for the front door, "Mrs. Banks wants the bookmarks sorted out if there's time."

Scanning the empty store, Lana winked. "I think I can handle it. Go have fun."

"Bye, Lana."

On her way out, Claire bumped into a customer coming in. He steadied her quickly before she took off down the street. With a chuckle, the guy walked in and locked eyes with Lana over the top of the cash register.

At once, Lana felt like she was 16 again, behind the counter of the Talon, on another small town school night.

What else could explain the sight of Pete Ross walking in the door with a backpack slung over his shoulder?

"Oh my God," his smile broke across his face, as big and bright and open as she remembered, and for the first time since in years, the bad things roved to the back of her mind. "Now I know I had too many pints last night if I'm seeing visions of the one and only Lana Lang in London."

She laughed. "Pete Ross, pub hopper. Who'd have thought?" It felt good to laugh and actually mean it for a change. Coming around the counter, she smiled her first genuine smile in…she didn't even know how long.

They fell easily into a hug, more easily than would have been possible back in Smallville. Back then there had been too many factors that would have made any sort of physical contact, no matter how innocent, a concept out of left field, first because of Whitney, and then Clark.

Back then, though, there hadn't been any need for them to have any sort of physical contact beyond the occasional brush of a shoulder or hands as they handed off test notes and coffee mugs.

Lana had been running from all the painful memories Smallville held for so long, sometimes she forgot there were actually a few good things in the past. Being with Pete, thousands of miles away from Kansas, reminded her of a few of those good things.

"What are you doing here?" Lana pulled two stools out from the storage closet so they could sit down and talk.

"Sure you won't get in trouble for this?" he asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Or doesn't your boss mind you chatting up random guys on the clock?"

"Chatting up? Exactly how long have you been in London, Pete?"

Shrugging, Pete leaned back against the counter that the cash register sat on. "Since graduation. Believe it or not, I go to Oxford."

"Why wouldn't I believe that?" Lana asked, deadpanning a straight face. Pete always got decent grades when they were in class together, but Oxford wasn't something she would ever have guessed was in his future. "That's really great, Pete."

"Yeah well," his friendly air, the one that had always reminded her faintly of a faithful puppy when they were kids, slipped a bit and he lowered his voice. "I think my mom had a bit to do with it. I came over for a school trip and fell in love with England. Supreme Court judges have a lot of pull, even if they are only Kansas State Supreme Court judges."

Lana placed her hand on his briefly. "I'm sure you got in on your own merit. What are you studying?"

"International affairs," he told her. "Surprised?"

"Very." It was an understatement. The idea of Pete Ross, the guy who had been notorious for chasing cheerleaders in high school and sat on the bench for the Crows for three years, as a future peace maker was surprising at the very least. "Out to save the world?"

"Nah," he waved his hand dismissively. "Just trying to help everyone get along better. The hero shtick is more Cla-" A horrified look came over his face, and he clapped a hand over his mouth. "Lana, I am so sorry."

Tears prickled behind her eyes. For a second, sitting with Pete while he mocked Clark's inability not to save someone, sent her back into a simpler time-as simple as their lives had ever gotten at any rate. Then the moment had passed, and as the realization of what he had said occurred to Pete, she was painfully reminded of the last few years with Clark and Lex and all the lies her life had been made of. She turned her face away from him subconsciously, not wanting him to know just how much the thought of Clark still hurt.

His hand on hers was warm, strong. Safe. Shocking, almost. Here eyes met his, and they were so deep and regretful that there was no way to keep the watery smile off her face. "Lana, I'm sorry."

Shrugging, she wiped absently at her face with her free hand. "Its okay, Pete. Really."

"You're crying," he stated. Though it sounded more like "You're lying."

Lana sighed. She was so tired of Clark defining her life. She had known Pete, as Clark's friend and also as just a nice guy, her entire life. There had to some way they could talk without mentioning the mutual tie known as Clark Kent. "I just…it still hits me every now and then." Pete nodded sympathetically, squeezing her hand. "But I don't want to talk about Clark anymore. I want to know how Pete Ross is doing these days; living across the ocean from his family, training to solve the world's problems."

Before he could answer, the bell over the door jingled again, signaling that they didn't have the luxury of playing catch up right then and an elderly man walked in.

Pete stood, picking his bag up off the floor. "I should probably go, y'know, let you get back to work. I'll see you around."

"Pete!"

He turned back to her, propping the door open with one hand, an expectant look on his face.

"You free tomorrow night?" Lana blurted out before she lost her nerve.

A wide grin broke his stoic features. "Yeah. I am. Do you know The White Room? It's around the corner, about a block and a half away."

Her head bobbed up and down, her eyes alternating between him and the man browsing around the mystery section. "I'll see you at six?"

"Great."

"Pete!" she yelled again.

With a smile, and just a touch of exasperation, he halted again. "Yeah?"

"Didn't you come in here for something?" she asked. "A book perhaps?"

His expression turned sheepish. "Gabriel Garcia Marquez." She resisted the urge to chuckle. Same old Pete. At least some things never changed.

"Third aisle," she supplied, laughing to herself while checking out a Doyle anthology for the man who had interrupted them.

…0…

_**Lyrics from 'Broken' by Lifehouse.**_


	2. Chapter 2

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The White Room was the epitome of a classic English Pub, located just minutes from the book store where Lana had been hiding out during her stay in London-and it had taken her months to admit that she was in fact hiding.

Pete was already there when she walked inside. He seemed to be a regular; chatting easily with the bartender and gesturing emphatically with his hands. A small pang went through Lana's chest wondering what it would be like to feel that comfortable somewhere. Anywhere.

He looked up, that trademark Pete grin still on his face, like he knew she had walked in and waved her over. The bartender backed away, but Lana noticed his eyes staying fixed on the general area where Pete was sitting.

"You're early," she said, feeling somewhat embarrassed that it was the only remark she could come up with. This should be easy. It was only Pete after all, the same Pete Ross she'd gone to kindergarten with.

"So are you," he replied easily. Another pang. Pete was so easy going, so…nice.

What was it like to go through a life so uncomplicated?

Lana couldn't help but fidget upon her barstool. There was something about sitting in a bar with Pete Ross that felt so foreign, too foreign, to her. Images of Whitney's letter jacket and Clark sneaking glimpses from across the cafeteria floated into her mind, quickly replaced by Pete's Mustang and Chloe's bedroom and the Talon after closing. This wasn't weird. This was someone she had know her entire life.

"Nervous?"

His smile was unsettling, doing nothing to quell the butterflies in her stomach. But she was caught, so she smiled weakly and shrugged. "I'm a little too used to trying to avoid anything that can remind me of Smallville."

"You want to call it a night?" His offer could have been an easy out, that's what he was offering her. Pete was a good guy, to the core, and he had to have read something in her demeanor that screamed how uncomfortable she was.

How had this happened? She was the same girl who had left for Paris at 17, feeling no apprehension about being alone in a strange country, moving with ease among people she didn't know. And now here she was, older and more cautious, worried about being spotted having drinks with an old friend from high school.

"No," she shook her head. "I'm just…."

"Scared?" he offered.

Lana nodded, and his eyes seemed to darken as he took it in. "I've kept in touch with Chloe since I moved. She told me about everything that's happened the past couple years. You didn't deserve what Lex did to you."

She had believed that too once. A part of her still did. Thoughts of Lex and the baby that never was still brought a bad taste to her mouth. Then the cloud of hatred and revenge passed and she saw her part in everything. "I'm not entirely blameless. I was the one who went to Lex. I wanted to be with him to forget Clark. I could have said no when he proposed." She looked up at Pete's sympathetic eyes. "I never loved Lex. I loved that he wanted me so badly. I thought he would let me in. I thought he trusted me."

Her last two words broke, a wave of tears rising behind her eyes. She blinked them away, turning her face to the side so Pete wouldn't see. He would still know, but knowing wasn't seeing. One more lesson her pathetic love life had taught her.

Once, back in Smallville, Lana had noticed that whenever Pete was angry he would clench and unclench his jaw. Being that she'd only seen him truly upset less than half a dozen times, she was amazed she even remembered that fact.

"But let's not talk about that," she added quickly. "Tell me about you. It's been, what; five years since I've seen you?"

His shoulders visibly relaxed. No surprise there. Pete had been the only one of the four of them back that had never made any attempt to befriend Lex, insisting that a Luthor could never be trusted.

If only she had listened to him.

"I'm okay." He took a slow drink of his beer, stopping to ask what she wanted to drink. "My life can be summed up in one word; school."

Lana laughed, causing him to look at her curiously. "Come on, Pete, I remember you always chasing some girl or talking about some game. There's got to be something else in your life besides school."

He shrugged. "Not really. I play football-soccer, rather-with some guys I know from school on Saturdays, and I go out about two nights a week. That's about it." Leaning his head closer like he was revealing a big secret he whispered, "You can't really party all nigh and then try to figure a way to solve global warming at 8 am."

"If you say so," she teased. "So there's no girl? At all?"

Pete sat his glass down and grinned at her, a mischievous twinkle glinting in his eyes. "Why Miss Lang, are you propositioning me?" He waggled his eyebrows.

Smacking at his arm, Lana laughed so hard that tears rolled down her cheeks, Pete chuckling just as hard.

She sobered. "Well…you are pretty cute."

"Yeah?" Pete smoothed down the lapels of his jacket. "I guess I am quite the catch."

The bartender, who had watched their conversation go from uncomfortable to depressing to lighthearted now. Pete had been frequenting the bar for a few years now and he'd never seen him have such a strange conversation with a girl before. He walked over and sat the girl's ginger ale in front of her, asking if they needed anything else.

"Friend of yours?" Lana asked.

"I've been coming here a while," he said, a little cryptically. So there was more to Pete Ross than he had led her to believe.

"You know," she started, "I've been wanting to go to Piccadilly Circus for a while now." No need to add that 'a while' consisted of the time between 5 and 10 and not since then. "Think there's a nice guy somewhere in London that'd be willing to take me?"

Eyes widening, he shook his head. "Uh uh. There are clowns and elephants and screaming kids at the circus."

She couldn't stop the smile from breaking out over her face again. It felt a lot better than tears. "You're scared of clowns?"

"I never said that," he said quickly.

Plastering an innocent look on her face, Lana sipped her dink, eyes as wide as she could make them. "Then you won't mind taking me."

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End file.
